I remember    nig in a tender, delicious ecstasy of excitement, my burning c t mimig t of t pistons ceaselessly ting train t bore me t, aude of my motment, into try of marriage.

        And I remember I tenderly imagi, my mot t beting atle relics, tumbled garments I    need any more, trunks, t programmes Id abandoned; sorn ribbon and t faded pograpions of a    of my bridal triump a pang of loss as if, o be her child in being his wife.

        Are you sure, sic box t    me, issue paper and red ribbon like a Cmas gift of crystallised fruit. Are you sure you love oo; black silk, ic ser, fiurous girler of a ricea planter. My eagle-featured indomitable mot otudent at toire could boast t faced a junkful of Ces; nursed a village tation of t a maing tiger h her own hand and all before she was as old as I?

        "Are you sure you love ;

        "Im sure I    to marry ; I said.

        And a s at last banisre of poverty from its ual place at our meagre table. For my motly beggared    soldier never returned from tears t never quite dried, a cigar box full of medals and tique service revolver t my motly etri    always in icule, in case -- eased pads on he grocers shop.

        Noarburst of ligtered t up all tations tion of tin nig been ss    ed breasts and s of er, and noeasingly caressed me, egregious, insinuating, nudgied restlessly in my narroongue a and a rasp of beard ed to me, te tact as tdress , il ral bed in t, pinnacled domain t lay, still, beyond tion. . . t magic place, tle ion in ion, my destiny.

        Above ted roar of train, I could eady breating door kept me from my    stood open. If I rose up on my elborils caug male st of leat alting-room, for, tly as if all , as if fall tur into snow.

        o surprise me in my abstracted solitude at tell t to announce ly creep up be of - in a Debussy prelude. But trayed er my first so mimic surprise, so t    be disappointed.

        reaks of pure silver in    range,     lined by experience. Rato    perfectly smootone on a beacides. And sometimes t face, in stillness o me playing,    alurbed me by te absence of ligo me like a mask, as if    truly reflected all t me, before, even, I    face lay undero offer my youthe years.

        And, elsew see , where?

        In, per castle to ook us, t marvellous castle in which he had been born.

        Even ;, still    lose t    must seem a curious analogy, a man    sometimes o me like a lily. Yes. A lily. Possessed of t strange, ominous calm of a se vegetable, like one of te s of a flesensely yielding to touc I     out a loinguis: O    me! and it    of    not and, not by virtue of its viole because of its very gravity.

        , a fire opal t in a plicated circle of dark antique gold. My old nurse, ed at t t, given to an aor by Cat came to tle , time out of mind. And did    to    back from t s my marital coup -- tle Marquise -- be-finding. But, oued my back pettis    to be remien teased me in the small hours.

        I een and kle bemused t, after t still in m for    sk, tsk,    my old nurse. And even my motant to see ly bereaved. A Romanian tess, a lady of    t mont ing act, at tany. t I rummaged ty magazines my old nan in a trunk under racked doy, ty,    and bizarre c,    ural at must erior decorators jungle filled ted palms and tame, squas.

        Before t? y; everyone pai, tar alking on t. to see al, enigmatic grace, you martre until Puvis de C breasts and eloo    it hey said.

        t of all    sumptuous diva; I    I aken to treat. My first opera; I     you could tell s o    sill alive (oook icky little o e, in t act, yet all I he glory of her voice.

        Married times ime to t graces, noo demonstrate ticism of aste, ed me to join tiful    still bore ts from w ly been freed, my bony s fingers.

        before our    tess ly gone -- ook my moto see tristan. And, do you kno I t I must truly love ed like to let us t ouch.

        aime I uous c carry su a loge, in red velvet armc us a silver bucket of iced cerval. t: My cup ru dress. ant moto let rousseau; ied ring us. And everyoared at me. And at .

        , clasped round my t. A c t. After terror, in tory, tos    just t aken ion, ure of luxurious defia nig to me even noe dress; t; and t, brigerial blood.

        I saing cuts on t regard of ; and it rangely magnified by t eye.    me , I dropped my eyes but, in glang a like t cruel necklace became me. And, for t time in my i and fined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption t took my breath away.

        t day, we were married.

        train sloo-be-visited station; silence of t; t I s of my life. And I could not sleep. I stealt up, raised ttle and    t misted over    at tform toangles of domestic lamp lig promised ove for tation master, ucked up in bed asleep iers. . . all tunning marriage, had exiled myself.

        Inte, into exile; I se, I kne -- t,    t    of t of t glimmered like a gypsys magic ball, so t I could not take my eyes off it    of Russiao seduce me so utterly t I could not say I felt one si for tartines and maman t n, like a coy, as train began to ted anticipation of ta ake me.

        t grey streamers of tc seeped into t my eed seold me    me. A ionless as t Egyptians painted upon t a certain tension in t of my stomaco be so ccruck. ing a Romeo y Julieta fat as a babys arm.

        "Soon,"    voice t olling of a bell and I felt, all at once, a sion of dread t lasted only as long as tce, broad face as if it ed from beloesque ival ment    made me ttle girl, before    me and died.

        As soon as my ep of train, I smelled tic salinity of t rees, stunted by tlantic gales,    ed but for ered g meekly beside tor car. It    me, a ripes of ermine and sable, o you, I il I met raining trai its leas us at t lonely     man in France.

        "Madame."

        to tess, tists model, tem of soft so rick -- but t ts simmering flas ive I o noreaked ry bouquet of pink of roses, e of tiger-lilies, as if my . the day broke around me like a cool dream.

        Sea; sand; a sky t melts into ty pastels    it of being tinuously on t of melting. A landscape    udes I played for    afternoon in t met ea-cups and ttle cakes, I, t of cy to give tive of music.

        And, ale. tude of ts turrets of misty blue, its courtyard, its spiked gate, le t lay on t its attics, ts opening on to t departures of t off by tide from land for    castle, at er, a mysterious, ampravening teriality of bots, endlessly, for a lover w lovely, sad, sea-siren of a place!

        tide    t of turned on to t cobbles beter,    for my    ry, c, pressed my fingers, kissed my palm raordinary tenderness. ill as ever Id seen it, still as a pond iced t    alrangely red and naked bettle. he smiled; he weled his bride home.

        No room, no corridor t did not rustle ors in tern regalia of rank lined up e faces, ippled ed ligion; t luminous murmurous castle of tle music student    toire.

        First of all, tial intervie traordinary macellated o liner, in smootter enuous, I t, migy arce linen ing, correct but lifeless, ucatus. . . briefly all my old nurse, so mut, in old me ter moto most feudal plicity, "as muc of t; Nole smile. S, I must be tent.

        But,    o be tent. In turret suite    over tumultuous Atlantid imagine myself tein for me in t -- an early Flemisive of Saint Cecilia at ial an. In t, o be. I o a loviivity I    o suspected in e spiral staircase to my bedroom; before sly vanis ive Breton. t I did not uand. t o interpret.

        And tary matrimonial bed, itself t, of my little room at s surfaces of ebony, vermilion lacquer, gold leaf; and its ains, billoately frames of torted gold, t reflected more o greet t multitude of girls I saical in tailor-mades, for travelling, madame, or hing.

        "See," uring to girls. "I ;

        I found t I rembling. My breat meet urned my    of pride, out of sceasingly, unfasten ttons of my jacket and slip it from my s; a li ore t union. tside in ttered on s seemed to me deliberately coarse, vulgar. to my face again, and stayed there.

        A, you see, I guessed it mig ered as my life o s of his world?

        ripped me, gourmand t ripping tic do not imagine muc it; ticicular treat for t in any greedy e. reat ite. And , palpitating core remained, I sa    permitted us to be aloogeticklike limbs, naked but for ton boots,    repository of y; and tail; s prapations. And so my purc t seen my fles to feel myself stirring.

        At oneant he smiled.

        Not yet. Later. Anticipation is ter part of pleasure, my little love.

        And I began to s also    be, impersonal arousal at t of love and at time a repugnance I could not stifle for e,    oo muc filled my bedroom i glass jars, takers lilies    poe    are ain you.

        tuarys life ly terminated. It turns out o attend to; ates,    kissed me before    me alone , silken brus of ted tip of tongue. Disgruntled, I ique lace arouo sip ttle breakfast of    ce t me; after t, si ure to me, to go but ttled do my piano.

        Yet only a series of subtle discords flo of tune. . . only a little out of tune; but Id been blessed    pitc bear to play any more. Sea breezes are bad for pianos; uner on to tinue udies! I flung dotle fury of disappoi; w s il my husband beds me?

        I so t.

        ual odour of Russia lettering on tavo in brilliant scarlet morocco. A deep-buttoned leato ree on. A le, carved like a spread eagle t    aion of e private press; it s dearest blood, came from Isfaed case t ill crisp and neo me. I squi a title or tiation, teries, t of Pandoras Box, and yao detain a seventeen-year-old girl ing for    embrace. I s of all, a novel in yelloed to curl up on ticky liqueur ces. If I rang for tes.

        le of tips, even before I ope slim volume itle at all on t I s, dearly prized,    ed t    I    bargained for tears uck pearls,    a split fig belo globes of tocks on ails of t    to desd, ar ure ion "Reproof of curiosity." My motricity, old me     lovers did; I    but not ures of Eulalie at turk ed, acc to terdam in 1748, a rare collectors piece.    baorty? Or    it for y little books Bank acles an inspect uricipation of fear; t y. eel engraving: "Immolation of tan". I kne book to make me gasp.

        t intensification of t suffused he massacre.

        "My little nun ; ure of mockery and relis,    me aloud, snatc it dohe sofa.

        "y pictures scared Baby? Baby mustnt play oys until so    s;

        time, ice. ively upon my breast, be lace. I stumbled on tair t led to to tammered foolis taken lund, besides, it is broad daylight. . .

        All tter to see you.

        on my crembling fingers, I faste my neck. It ed it off my s ter kiss t made me soo. , oned: "Of ains/Only ;

        A dozen rapezes in ty air outside.

        I ent selepertorously, as if ing    one-sided struggle, I ter like a porcelain vase flung against a    its mask; and per. Yet I ely disy.

        I gatogeto t cealed telep in Ne.

        I s body in my arms. ant bees. My il it looked like an embalming parlour. t lilies, t ributing t inse remi of pampered flesh.

        , uro me and stroked t bit into my neck, but enderness no I ceased flincs. My dear one, my little love, my c    , sucuousness,    ative of    my tears in a flood. I g to ed t me for suffering it. For a ions of t tendrils of my tons of , kissed my e t from Ne    leave as soon as tide    least six weeks.

        "But it is our ;

        A deal, aerprise of o t illness of tle girl, I did not uand. And, o my y, I oo many o find t pressing itments. I k ones and ts of dead beasts    run a, after    to book a passage for tates    day -- just oiny call, my little one -- ogether.

        And I o be tent .

        A Mexi dis s and ce; salad; uous uscat grapes and Asti spumante. A celebration    exploded festively. And ttle cups so fi sed. I reau,    curtains dra t, o perco te little Poiret s of s suff, tle soft    sleep, eac    let me take off my ruby c able, nor fasten up my desding y so retly ruptured t still remained a tle.

        ts already," ;e do not s out of to prove to ttany you are a virgin, not in times. But I sell you it ime in all my married lives I could erested tenants suc;

        t must    captivated    musiasse des audiences au clair de lune played upon a piano    remember    ease I    luxurious place, ant panion during tsyr yrised my o kno my y gave ake . Ce! I s to tue of default.

        t teasingly, as if    mysterious treat, ook out a buncerior    -- key after key, a key,    te, almost baroque;    ake care of them all.

        I eyed tion. Until t moment, I    given a sio tical aspearriage        man, ed into cellars for y bottles ined in racks all tle . to tcallery, a treasure uries of avid collectors -- ahere.

        aste for ts, old me    of greed. t portrait of    im    of tory of ting of t picture? ook off    time, smartre, sarily in a blus reddened s,    of t story, of t dear girl, e Gauguiranced broed    of t e e, Into t e Go. And, besides tions ance of atteaus, Poussins and a pair of very special Fragonards, issioned for a litious aor reasures abruptly.

        Your te face, c for t time. Your te face, s promise of debaucect.

        A log fell in tigating a sed green flame. I felt so giddy as if I    so mucrous presence, ed at birty t of us, t, even    in love ly oppressed me. . . No. I    afraid of    of myself. I seemed reborn in ive eyes, reborn in unfamiliar sion of me a, a -- mig be a grain of beastly trut, I blusiced, to t alent for corruption.

        o t -- dont laug closet, and a queens ransom in Limoges. And a key to tions of plate are kept.

        Keys, keys, keys. rust me o o    turo Paris. Sues a day, just as to ced,     served e so ied in ificates altely more.

        Outside our firelit privacy, I could ide dra ime for o leave me. One single key remained unated for on tated over it; for a moment, I t o unfasten it from its brot bato    and take it ah him.

        " is t key?" I demanded, for ;to yive it me!"

        antalisingly above my    of reaing fingers; those bare red lips of his cracked sidelong in a smile.

        "A; ;Not to my . Rato my enfer."

        it on teoget musically, like a carillon. tal c over me to drop a beard-masked kiss on my forehead.

        "Every man must , even if only one, from ; ;Promise me t t last little one I se; make toy boats of my sificates, if it pleases you, ao America after me. All is yours, every t ts. Yet all it is is to a little room at t of t to ttle corridor full of     into your en you if you ve suctle room! But you must promise me, if you love me, to leave it    is only a private study, a ;den", as times, on t yet iable occasions o savour t;

        ttle tarligyard as,    elepaken a piano-tuner on to taff; to take up ies t day. o , once, and then drove away.

        I    afternoon and no sleep. I lay tossing and turning in ral bed until anot    ions of t t, s ai toad-like, clammy    of moisture, I felt a vague desolation t ain queasy craving like t aste of coal or ted food, for t ed to me, in erses of flesy.

        I lay in bed alone. And I longed for ed me. ere to repense me for t? Did all t castle o repense me for tine    s? And ure of my desirous dread for terious being wo sery over me, ?

        t straig    me, not for all Street but for an importunate mistress tucked aer to, only by tice of scales and arpeggios? And, sloo t t given myself    ule tincture of relief.

        At last I drifted into slumber, as daylig t t, all jar of lilies beside torted t stems so ting droo greeniser.

        Coffee and croissants to sole tary ion of b on a glass saucer. tic juice from an e into a g pleasure except to    tuner    , I sprang out of bed and pulled on my old serge skirt and flannel blouse, e of a student, in    ease hes.

        After my tice, I called tuner in, to t young, le mout fixed upo see me. er in t augrade so t    satisfactory. Yes.     sometimes be alloo ainly. o kno I had smiled.
请记住本书首发域名：966xs.com。966小说手机版阅读网址：wap.966xs.com